Through Both of My Eye Glasses
7-17-13
As I sit on my front porch in a living space
I have only dreamed of as a kid, in the sun so warm and vibrant, my vitality is
momentarily renewed.
I immerse in my small part of the harmony in
this little part of the world around me:
The squirrel by my feet who thinks he is a cat, my wonderful neighbor chatting
on the phone in her Aussie accent, the occasional car passing by reminding me
of the waves rolling in one street over.
The Fiat Hybrid who just parallel parked between two cars seemingly inches
apart, the vibrant color of my iron turquoise table against the summer green
ice plant, the thriving purple and orange flowers I planted; strangely
sustained in my ignorance of them this year, the hope of a new friend/neighbor
behind that For Rent sign across the street, my holey tablecloth I used as a
make-shift awning to block the sun from me and my turquoise table blowing in a
breeze I cannot feel….
The moment is a part of this story I am
living yet it seems isolated as the rhythm of the passing of time has taken
down to an “Easy Like Sunday Morning” pace.
In contrast, or maybe just a dissonant
harmony, I think of the moment my dear friend is living across the country. She is in a different part of her
building plot.
She is loosing.
She lost her health, autonomy, all her
money, security, her home, many of her choices and almost her marriage. In addition, one of her children may
also be sick. But she submits with
a resounding Buckley-like Alleluia.
She rests accepting her momentary sadness, wearing her loss in the
unseen yet resonant hands of her Creator.
She is not ignoring her pain but accepts it without turning to
bitterness, denial or whining for comfort. She relies, daily, on the strength that comes from an
outside source…. which frankly, is God.
Also, I am thinking of another dear friend
not so far away. His strong,
brilliant Father has lowered his frame to his cruel slave driver: Alzheimer’s. He mercifully and lovingly visits his
shriveling mentor in hopes that maybe today he will get a glimpse of the man he
knew. In addition, this dear friend
seems to be loosing an ability he not only has invested some of his self image
but also his livelihood. I have
witnessed this man continue to use whatever he has strength to do in a way that
is beyond honoring his job or providing for his household. It is even beyond honoring the God he
claims to serve. Although the
enjoyment in this ability is gone, he uses what he has in passionate
Buckley-like Alleluia to the One who gives and takes away. I texted him in my amazement. He responded, “...Just trying my
best. We choose death or we choose
life. You know? Death has had enough to say in my life
and in my family so I am pushing on…”
So this harmony at my turquoise table; does
it continue on as I step away from it into the dissonance in my own story and
the reality of the stories of my friends?
I believe this “harmony” is the sweet surrender, the Buckley-like
Alleluia that joins the moments of perfect harmony in peaceful moments and the
losses, the shipwrecks.
The strength of my two friends puts a fire
under my heart and my will to want to carry the awareness of this belief with me. I want to let it bring meaning to the
mundane, I want to whine less, spend less money, be less critical, sing more,
center more often in quiet, love much more. It makes me want to “see” the people I am missing or have written
off. It makes me want to look at
my own losses as something beautiful and exceedingly valuable. I want to respond to pain with honesty
and questions…but end in brave hope and surrender.
